<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Names by lilhex</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26696701">Names</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilhex/pseuds/lilhex'>lilhex</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Broadchurch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Transgender Alec Hardy, hardy is a tsundere and ellie is ellie (bothering), this is old but i had to post it now before the alexa meme is completely forgotten, trans woman hardy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:08:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,633</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26696701</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilhex/pseuds/lilhex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ellie helps Hardy with a new name.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alec Hardy &amp; Ellie Miller</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Names</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is of course inspired by <a href="https://xueyangapologist.tumblr.com/post/186824609797/thoroughbreds2017-the-thing-about-broadchurch-is">this tumblr post</a>. I thought it would be interesting to show Ellie trying to help newly-out Hardy out, while they are both being, of course, closed off emotionally.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Alec can’t stay now, can it?” Ellie asks one sunny afternoon, draped on the arm of Hardy’s sofa before biting into a piece of buttered toast.</p><p>Hardy closes her eyes at the satisfying sound, electing to focus on that and not on Ellie scattering crumbs all over her living room.</p><p>No. Alec can’t possibly stay. But she had no alternatives to offer.</p><p>The suggestion coming from Miller was welcome like rain at the end of a heat stroke. Like Daisy coming home from break at her mother’s. Small blessings she can’t give thanks to out loud.</p><p> “We’ve been through this, Miller,” Hardy says tiredly, leaning back on her armchair, taking reading glasses off. “I don’t care for names.”</p><p>“You said you don’t care for <em>Alec</em>,” Ellie points out, mouth full of buttered toast, “’f it was a name you liked, ’t might feel different.”</p><p>Hardy keeps silent and her eyes closed. To dismiss the comment would still be to acknowledge it, certainly not as bad as to affirm it, but Hardy doesn’t lie to Ellie, so she bears it silently, the truth of it, the way Miller knows her. Admission by omission.</p><p><em>Of course</em> Hardy doesn’t care for ‘Alec’. It’s not entirely untrue that Hardy doesn’t care about names in general— just a noise people make to get each other’s attention, but a <em>personalized </em>one at that, and Hardy has gotten through her whole life so far perfectly avoiding making most of those noises, so she sees little point to start giving a shit now.</p><p> “I was thinking,” Miller goes on, mouth mercifully free of toast, “so, Ale-”</p><p>“Of course you were!” Hardy exclaims, eyes shooting open to glare at the other woman.</p><p>“—Alec is short for Alexander, isn’t it, except your name has always simply been Alec, now, hasn’t it?” Miller goes on, ignoring the interruption.</p><p>To her horror, Hardy sees now that Miller has taken out her phone and is holding it in her toastless hand, scrolling away with a buttered thumb.</p><p>“Miller.” There’s some degree of honest alarm in her voice now. “What is this?”</p><p>“A baby names’ website,” she says offhandedly. “So I was thinking, since Alec is essentially a version of Alexander—”</p><p>“You found that <em>there</em>?”</p><p>“—maybe a version of Alexandra, what do you think?”</p><p>“Miller.”</p><p><em>Miller </em>says nothing to that, and Hardy doesn’t have any follow-up statements. They lock eyes in the afternoon living room, golden-hour dust dancing by the windows.</p><p>“So you’re just not— not changing your name at all?” Miller asks.</p><p>“I told ya. I don’t care.”</p><p>It’s not entirely untrue. And yet, a new name was in order. People would go about having a big ceremony about those things. Hardy hardly new how to begin talking to Miller about it. But now it’s Miller, suggesting it. It’s Miller who wants to have this conversation, starts it, insists when Hardy withdraws. She bears it silently, the truth of it, the way Miller knows her.</p><p>“Oh bollocks, of course you do, Hardy!” the last name rolls off her tongue easily. Sometime in the past year, Hardy had finally gotten her calling her that, instead of ‘sir’, at least when outside of work. And the after-work instances had become more frequent. She came out to her not long after. Just long enough after the habit had been established.</p><p>“What’s the point in it, Miller? Changing my name? Everyone’s happy calling me Hardy, and at work it’s been <em>ma’am </em>for a good while now. Is there a point to it? Is there?”</p><p>The last words are more of a plea now. Ellie sees it, in her eyes. Silence falls in the living room once more. <em>Tell me, Miller, tell me it matters. Tell me what to call myself, now. You’re so much better at being a woman that I am.</em></p><p>The curls around Ellie’s head form a sort of golden halo, hit by the sunet from the back like that. And yet, looking at her, Hardy becomes more aware of her own growing hair, her clean face. She doesn’t feel envious of her, she feels how her skin is soft and warm under the sun, changing, <em>changing</em>.</p><p>Everything the sun touches in the room seems to be melting under the light. Like butter on toast. When the silence breaks, it’s by Ellie, in a softer voice.</p><p>“You might like it more, if it’s a name that suits you. You don’t have to use it, but it’d still make a difference, won’t it, knowing that it’s there?”</p><p> “I’m not one of your kids, Miller,” Hardy snaps, and just like that the spell is broken, a switch flips on, and they are back on their back-and-forth, Miller rolling her eyes, her toast and phone drawing invisible circles as she gestures in annoyance.</p><p>“No you’re not, and I God for that, I do!”</p><p>“So what’s your plan? Scroll through some- <em>baby name site </em>looking for the right name?”</p><p>Miller shrugs in the affirmative and goes directly back to her screen. “So Alexandra’s a no, but there’s plenty of other variants, if you’d like something that’s not so far-off, sonically, and then if that’s not your cup of tea there’s over ten thousand names left…”</p><p>“Oh fuck’s sake, Miller, spare me!” she rolls her eyes again, but Miller is off scrolling away again, sliding off the sofa arm to make herself comfortable on the seat instead. Hardy allows herself a small private smile.</p><p>“Oh! How’s Sasha!” Miller’s head pops up, eyes ablaze.</p><p>“<em>No</em>.<em>”                                                                           </em></p><p>“Why not? It’s very Russian-aristocracy-ish.”</p><p>Hardy turns her wristwatch around.</p><p>“’Twas the name of a cat I had once.”</p><p>“You had a <em>cat</em>?”</p><p>“Miller! Focus.”</p><p>“Right! How’s Alexa?”</p><p>Hardy actually makes a face this time.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Why not? It’s elegant!”</p><p>“It’s- the kids. They’ve made some sort of joke out of it.”</p><p>“They have?” Miller’s face squeezes in confusion. “News to me.”</p><p>“Yeah, don’t ask <em>me</em>,” Hardy waves her hand. “Daisy wouldn’t stop. She’d go <em>this is so sad</em>. And then, <em>Alexa…</em>’ you know? Like this? Like I was supposed to finish the sentence?”</p><p>Miller blinks at her once, twice, then eventually shakes her head. She studies her toast, determines the crunchiest part, takes a bite and goes back to her phone screen. Of course, she might not know. Her son doesn’t talk to her as much as Daisy talks to Hardy.</p><p>“Alexis?” she says, still chewing. “It’s close enough. Very elegant.”</p><p>Hardy grimaces again.</p><p>“I don’t like the ‘x’ you know?” she hears herself admit, “Alec would’ve been so much worse with an ‘x’ instead, so—”</p><p>“Sandra? How’s Sandra?”</p><p>Hardy gives a grunt.</p><p>“Oooh!” Ellie’s face beams up as she stares at the other woman. <em>We’ve hit gold</em>, her expression says. Hardy rolls her eyes. “You <em>do </em>like Sandra, don’t you?”</p><p>Hardy’s eyeballs aren’t getting any rest.  </p><p>“I don’t like names, I <em>told </em>ya—”</p><p>“There’s gotta be something you like. Oh well, it’s not like I have plans and you <em>certainly </em>don’t, so we’ve got all night! Let’s get into it why don’t w—”</p><p>“<em>Fine</em>! Sandra’s <em>fine</em>! That’s enough baby names, Miller, this one’ll do just <em>fine</em>!” Hardy gets up and walks to the kitchen.</p><p>She can hear Miller unfolding her legs and getting up to follow her, so Hardy closes the door behind her to allow for a quiet moment and another private smile. She sets to making tea.</p><p>Miller’s voice comes to her through the kitchen door, muffled but no less sharp and annoying in a way that isn’t bothersome at all.</p><p>
  <em>Endearing. </em>
</p><p>“So that’s it, then? That’s what it’s gonna be? It’s settled? Sandra it is?”</p><p>Endearing as anyone so determined to not let a woman have a moment’s rest could be.</p><p>Hardy gives a vaguely affirmative grunt by way of reply,  that gets almost lost by the noise of the kettle.</p><p>“That can’t just be all it took though, can it? Just like that? Oh c’mon, Hardy, you can’t just make tea to avoid a conversation!”</p><p>There’s silence for a blessed few minutes. It won’t last, but Hardy enjoys it for now and later Hardy will enjoy the talk, too.</p><p><em>You know, Miller, </em>she wants to say, <em>I still pray you’ll stop asking me questions. Haven’t stopped a night since the day we met.</em></p><p>Miller’s voice comes back, though.</p><p>“So I can just call you Sandra from now on? Can I? Oh!”</p><p>The exclamation was at the kitchen door suddenly opening, and finding herself almost nose-to-nose with Hardy, now holding two mugs of tea.</p><p>The tea bags are still soaking in the steaming water, creating two small walls of mist between them.  </p><p>Miller takes the mug Hardy offers her.</p><p>“You <em>cannot</em>,” Hardy says in answer to the question. “But if it brings you any peace of mind at all, you might think of me by that.”</p><p>“So you’re changing it?”                                   </p><p>Hardy shrugs. “I’m in no hurry.”</p><p>“But you will?”                                   </p><p>Hardy leans against the door frame and takes a sip out of her beverage. Ellie’s eyebrows go up in judgment.</p><p>“The tea bag’s still in that thing.”</p><p>“You know how these things take time. And money.”</p><p>“Well?”</p><p>Hardy shrugs over her mug before taking another sip.</p><p>“It will take time. And money.”</p><p>Miller’s whole face beams up.</p><p>“Sandra Hardy…”</p><p>“Don’t.”</p><p>“Sandy.”</p><p>“Absolutely not.”</p><p>Miller opens her mouth to say something, but doesn’t, instead keeps beaming over her mug, takes a sip, forgetting the tea bag. They stand there, in the kitchen doorframe, quietly sipping tea, as the night falls around them.</p><p> “It’s a nice name, Sandra, is.”</p><p>Hardy is finding it harder and harder to fight the corners of her mouth down.</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>“Thanks! How about <em>you’re welcome</em>?”</p><p>Hardy coughs into her sleeve.</p><p>“Don’t flatter yourself.”</p><p>“<em>Are you</em> going to ever admit your name was my idea?”</p><p>Hardy cocks an eyebrow up at her.</p><p>“No.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>...so anyway meet sandra everyone :P</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>